Antihero
by Scorpio71
Summary: Miranda White gets a small taste of what makes a true gentleman as well as why gentlemen are so charming and irresistible. He is a thief. He is a scoundrel. He is wanted by the authorities and the underworld alike. He is Gambit and he is a true gentleman


**ANTIHERO** by Scorpio

CONTINUITY: X-Treme X-Men ; Issue #8 "Boomerang"

PAIRING: Gambit, female(Miranda White)/male(Carl Timbrook)

WARNING: I'm taking the descriptions for this from the first couple of pages from the issue, but since there are no words, I've added my own, as well as named the couple that are featured in it. It's very possible that Chris Claremont has other plans for these two later, but I've chosen to ignore that and just go with this first reaction here. The descriptions of violence come right from the panels drawn by Salvador Larroca, so it isn't too bad.

DISCLAIMER: X-Treme X-Men is owned by Marvel Comics, a division of Marvel Entertainment Group, Inc. I don't own Gambit, nor do I own the other two characters, I merely named them. I am making no money or profit from this work.

SUMMARY: Miranda White gets a small taste of what makes a true gentleman as well as why gentlemen are so charming and irresistible. - _He is a thief. He is a scoundrel. He is wanted by the authorities and the underworld alike. He is Gambit and he is a true gentleman_.

* * *

_**Antihero**_

_by Scorpio_

* * *

Miranda White glanced over at her boyfriend of two months, confused and angry. Carl Timbrook walked beside her with a scowl marring his usually handsome face, making him ugly to look at. For the forth time in as many days, she wondered why she was dating him still. Oh, she knew why she had begun to date him, that wasn't what confused her. He was a popular guy on campus and he was always surrounded by crowds of people that looked up to him. The guys all wanted to be him and the girls all wanted to date him. And when he had asked **her** to go out for dinner and a movie one night, she had jumped at the chance. One thing lead to another and now they were considered an exclusive couple. The girls were jealous and the guys, well, they were guys. Respectful when Carl was around and rude and obnoxious when he wasn't. The question was, was her new found popularity worth it? She was beginning to think it wasn't.

They had gone out tonight to one of the more popular clubs deep in the heart of Sydney, far from the familiar sights that surrounded the university campus. At first, Miranda had been looking forward to it. Loud music, blinking lights, the glitz and glitter of beautiful people dancing and swirling with happiness and energy. She had worn her favorite top. It was bright green with light green hearts all over it and it showed off her figure nicely. The evening had been wonderful. She had been having a great time dancing and singing, swaying with the crowd on the dance floor while Carl stood at the bar drinking and talking with some guy from school that he knew.

Then, in the blink of an eye, everything turned inside out and upside down. Out of what seemed to be nowhere, Carl had stormed over in a drunken rage and began screaming at her and her dancing partner over the music. His large beefy hand had clamped down around her arm even as he shoved the other dancer away, sending him stumbling into the crowd. She had tried to tell him, to explain that it was only dancing, that she had no interest in that guy at all. She tried to let him know that she didn't want anyone else; that there was no reason to be jealous, but Carl hadn't cared for her explanations. He didn't want to hear her reasoning. He only knew what he had seen, and that had been **his** girl dancing next to another man. He yelled back at her that it didn't matter what she **meant**, it only mattered what others **saw**, and what people, or more importantly, what **Carl** himself had seen was her looking like a slut. That had hurt. Deeply. It was at that point that she had stopped arguing and just followed him meekly as he lead her out of the club and back into the streets.

Now here they were, walking side by side in stony silence. His anger was practically palpable as it radiated off of him. Injured pride and jealousy all twined together into an ever shortening leash on what she could and could not do, who she could and could not spend time with. Miranda was finding that sensation to be frightening and choking. She resented being treated like a piece of property. Like an object with no mind or will of her own. She was beginning to think that she didn't even **like** Carl Timbrook, no matter **how** popular his attentions made her at school.

That's when it happened. The first thing that caught her attention was the man's clothing. It stood out glaringly amongst the party dresses and casual clothes of the people lining up to go inside of the clubs and restaurants along the avenue. Black leather and kevlar under a tattered brown trenchcoat, he looked like he was ready to head off into battle. Yet his face was so beautiful that it nearly made her catch her breath and all she could think was _//He's a fallen angel.//_ even as she turned her head to watch him saunter past her.

SMACK

Pain exploded across her cheek and sent her reeling across the sidewalk. As if from far away she heard Carl's grating sneering voice in her ears, "There ya go again, ya stinking whore. Panting over other guys right in front of me." Desperately tying to keep from falling to the ground from the blow, she stumbled sideways and banged her hip painfully off of a round table set out in front of Bana Cafe. The table tipped over, spilling drinks onto the sidewalk and sending her falling directly into the arms of the leather armored stranger that had caught her eye.

The scent of leather, cigarettes and oddly enough, magnolias, surrounded her along with those heavily muscled arms, bracing her against a strong solid chest. She gasped in shock and pain, the breath hitching in her throat past a suppressed sob and then those arms gently tilted her back onto her feet and steadied her.

"Petite? Y' all right?"

The accent was not one she had ever heard before, but the words were soft and calming, whispered in her ear from a whiskey smooth voice that she turned towards instinctively. They both flinched slightly. Miranda knew instantly why she flinched. The man's eyes burned like twin fires in the dark of night and only one thought rushed through her brain, _//My God, he's a mutant!//_ She had never known or met a mutant, but she did see the news. All mutants, whether they intended it or not, had the potential to be dangerous, even deadly. Knowing this, she couldn't figure out why he would flinch at **her**. Then, slowly and as gentle as if she were a new born baby, he reached out with one leather gloved hand and ran his finger in a feathery light touch down her stinging cheek and wiped away the tears of pain that had fallen from her eye. Miranda quailed inside, _//Why can't Carl touch me like that? Like I'm precious and beautiful and special?//_

"Miranda!"

Turning her head away from the armored man's hypnotic burning eyes, she looked over at the sound of her name being shouted. Carl Timbrook, university campus big shot and her boyfriend, stood there with a glower of hatred and jealous anger twisting his features into something dark and ugly. A shiver of fear slid down her spine at the raw emotions gleaming in his blue eyes. She saw nothing soft or gentle in him, nothing that she would want to be around. Instinctively, she stepped back away from him. A solid wall of leather and kevlar blocked her path and she whimpered low in her throat, but then those same strong arms that had caught her just a moment ago wrapped around her and pulled her into a tight and protective embrace. A single fingertip traced a lazy circle on the bare skin of her shoulder even as a whiskey soft voice whispered in that strangely exotic accent, "Shhhh, petite. Gambit won't let dat man hurt y' no more."

Carl stepped forward, a growling snarl coming from his mouth even as he sneered at her with utter contempt and disgust. Miranda had felt many things for Carl over the short turbulent two months they had been together. Confusion. Exasperation. Annoyance. Irritation. Even anger. This time, she felt true unadulterated fear. This angry and jealous man was not the person she thought she knew. He wasn't anyone she'd **want** to know. When Carl took another step towards them, she let loose a small "eep" of startled fear and dashed behind the leather and kevlar clad man that had been unwittingly pulled into the drama that was her life. For a second she just assumed that he would try to talk his way out of whatever violence that Carl had in mind or to just simply try and flee into the crowd. Either way, Miranda figured that it would divert Carl's attention away from her long enough to dash off towards the local bus terminal so that she could catch a transit back towards the university. The man, Gambit as he had named himself, did something completely unexpected and charmingly archaic, however. He stood his ground, using his own body as a shield between herself and her angry and violent boyfriend.

Feeling a bit more courageous now that her defender wasn't running away or tossing her back into the fray, Miranda peeked her head around the armored man's shoulder. Gambit's smokey voice caressed her ears even as he held up one hand towards Carl. "Hey now, homme. Dat ain't no way t' treat a lady. Why don't y' just calm down a minute an' talk it all out, heh?" But Miranda could tell just by looking at Carl's face that he wasn't in any mood to listen to nobody. His face was set into stubborn lines that she recognized and he was using his large size to shoulder and shove his way through the crowd to get closer. Some tiny voice in the back of her head whispered that things were about to turn even uglier.

Miranda didn't even have time to warn the man, Gambit, before Carl was reaching out with one big beefy hand to shove him away. She knew from previous experience that when Carl pushed people out of his path, they scattered. She turned to dash off away from them both and had only gotten a few feet when she realized something. The leather and kevlar clad mutant **hadn't** fallen or backed down. Looking back, she watched in wide eyed astonishment as he lifted his own hand up and gestured as if he would push Carl back, but he didn't. Instead, his hand burst into glowing fuchsia fire that crackled and sizzled even as a knowing and amused smirk erupted over the man's handsome face.

"Now, now, homme. Y' shouldn't just be pushing people around like dat. Y' never know when y' gonna run inta someone who can push back harder an' heavier dan y' can even imagine."

Miranda gasped in shock and fear as the crowds of people began to scatter and run. She had known from the moment she had looked up into his burning eyes that the leather clad man was a mutant, but to see a display such as this was beyond her wildest imaginings. This was the type of stuff you saw on the evening news or read about in the newspapers. It wasn't the kind of thing that stepped out of a busy crowd in the middle of east end Sydney Australia and stopped Miranda White's boyfriend from slapping her around.

For a brief second, she figured that Carl would back down and take off running. She somehow knew that a simple barroom brawler was no match for a man that could create crimson fire at will; no matter how many times that brawler had come out the winner before. Carl was a top athlete who pitted himself against other university students. He was a big man with big fists. Gambit, on the other hand, was a powerful mutant and a battle hardened warrior and it showed in every little nuance of his being. Miranda almost pitied Carl when he didn't back down, although if she was honest with herself, she wasn't surprised. Carl had never lost a fight in his life and his drunken pride wouldn't let him believe that he could now, either.

With the sound of rushing air, Carl swung his balled up fist directly at the armored man's face. It was almost funny how quickly and easily Gambit took him down. He moved like liquid in smooth graceful arcs that seemed to be more muscle memory than a thought-out strategy. The mutant ducked his head down and around causing Carl's punch to catch nothing but empty air. Seemingly out of nowhere, the leather clad man was holding a metal staff that just appeared in his hand. He swung the staff down low, not even hitting Carl with it, just jamming it with precision between the larger man's feet. With a startled cry and a hissed curse, Carl went tumbling to the ground towards the side of the building. KRANG! The stench of half rotten garbage swirled through the air as her boyfriend slammed into a couple rubbish bins, tipping them over and spilling their contents everywhere.

Moving like a hunting cat, swift and deadly, the man called Gambit glided over to her boyfriend, swirling his staff through the air. For half a heartbeat, Miranda was certain that he was going to use it to split Carl's head open like an overripe melon. Instead, when the armored mutant came to a halt, he was standing directly over Carl's sprawled form, the tip of his metal staff resting lightly against the base of his throat.

Pressing her hands up against her temples, Miranda wasn't certain what to do, how to react to the events that were playing out in front of her. She could almost hear her father's voice bragging about how proud he was of her to have finally landed a boyfriend that could take care of her, how Carl had a bright future. Yet, Carl didn't take care of her. He was rude, possessive, jealous and occasionally abusive. She could remember sitting together in the student lounge with her girlfriends arguing over another news report filled with images of destruction that was being blamed on mutants. They had all agreed that mutants were dangerous and that it would be so frightening to run into one. And yet, here she was being **defended** by a mutant from her own boyfriend. That ran completely backwards to everything that she'd ever been told or ever thought was possible. And way down deep in her memories from when she was a little girl, she could remember her grandmother telling her about the difference between a real gentleman and the kind of boy that she should stay far away from. Her grandmother had told her that a **real** gentleman always defends a lady, keeps her safe and happy. He cherishes her as a priceless treasure and stands between her and an unhappy world. Suddenly, she realized that her grandmother would **not** like or approve of Carl Timbrook, but perhaps, just perhaps mind you, she would approve of the dangerous mutant that had him pinned to the garbage strewn ground like a butterfly.

Suddenly, Gambit's head whipped around to look past her. Some part of her mind noted that his hand on the staff didn't waver a bit and that he had effectively trapped Carl on the ground until he decided to let her boyfriend up. She was just turning to look and see what had caught his attention when she heard it. A high-toned, piercingly shrill wail split the air and she jumped. Craning her head around further, she saw the huge armored van pull out of its sharp turn and swing fully onto the road. Another sizzle of fear washed over her as she instantly recognized the Boxer Assassins of the Chinese Triad. _//First chivalrous mutants and now the Triad's assassins. What next?// _While she had never run across them in person, the Boxers had featured in the news and police reports for years and like any native, she could recognize their uniforms on sight. Fear and confusion washed over her as she wildly wondered what they were doing here.

Miranda glanced around the now deserted street trying to pinpoint the person who'd foolishly managed to incur the wrath of the most notorious and feared crime syndicate on the continent when her handsome rescuer set her world topsy-turvy once again. Out of nowhere, Gambit held up three ordinary poker cards in his right hand. In a flash of sizzling pink light, the cards burst into crimson fire. The glowing energy hissed and spit between the mutant's fingers even as they lit up the night brighter than all of the neon signs hanging over the doors of the clubs and restaurants. Miranda cringed back away, somehow knowing that the burning fire that Gambit so easily summoned to his hands would be deadly to her.

Without hesitation, the leather and kevlar clad man flung the glowing playing cards with deadly accuracy towards the oncoming truck filled with armed killers. Crazily, she heard the voice of the minister from the church that her mother dragged her to during her childhood preaching from the back of her mind, "...and know too that evil has it's own beauty to tempt the righteous with, but under the charming lies and whispered promises you shall find only fire and pain..." and for a brief second Miranda feared that she would start to giggle, but she knew that if she succumbed to that urge then she would soon dissolve into hysterical laughter driven by fear. Before she could begin to get a grip on her own roiling emotions, the glowing burning cards struck their target.

SKRAM - FOOM

Fire and smoke exploded from the armored van with a concussive blast that shook the pavement she stood on. Glass shattered and tires squealed shrilly as the van swerved drunkenly across the asphalt street and barreled mindlessly through an empty parking lot to **slam** into an abandoned factory decorated with "For Sale" signs. The roof of the factory exploded into the air and the wall crumpled inwards, sending shingles, bricks and shards of glass raining through the night.

When Miranda turned back to face the mutant warrior who had both saved her from a painful and public beating as well as single-handedly destroying an entire cadre of armed killers baring down on them with ruthless determination, she found herself gazing into laughing red on black eyes and an amused charming grin. For that one moment, the leather and kevlar clad mutant warrior seemed like a little boy enjoying an exciting night out away from normally strict parents and she couldn't help but smile back at him. Then, something in his eyes shifted slightly and he reached out to her with one glove covered hand. The choice was hers alone. He wouldn't go to her because he was still holding his staff pressed tightly to Carl's throat and to move would be to release him. She could turn and run away from him now or she could step forward and let whatever happened next happen.

Hesitantly and with her nerves rattled beyond anything she'd ever known before, she stepped towards the man, Gambit. He grabbed hold of her gently and pulled her in tightly to him so that her back was pressed up against his side with his hand clutching her ribcage, holding her against his body even as he gazed into her eyes from over her shoulder.

"Ah, petite chere. Y' far too pretty a femme t' be held down by de likes of dis one." A quick thrust of his stubbled chin towards Carl's sprawled form told her instantly to whom he referred. "One such as y'self deserves t' know the touch of a man, not a boy tryin' t' pretend."

With those words whispered in his whiskey and smoke voice, he gently whirled her around so that she was cradled gently in his arms. Instinct took over as her higher thought processes ground to a halt and she wrapped her arms around his neck, the fingers of her left hand running through the silken strands of his hair. He pulled her tightly to his chest and a sizzle of excitement shivered through her body as she felt her breasts press against his armored form. Nipples hardening to peaks, she moaned softly in his ear even as he dipped his own head down to nuzzle his face gently in her bright red hair. "Y' smile when y' t'ink of Gambit an' 'member what he told y' tonight, petite." Miranda didn't have time to reply when she felt his soft full lips press a gentle kiss against her throat directly on that sensitive spot right behind her ear and she shivered again.

Before she could pull her whit's about her, the mutant with the burning eyes swirled her back out of his arms, rapped his metal staff against Carl's temple knocking him unconscious and then flashed her a brilliant and charming smile. Turning around, he dashed off towards the confusion of smoke and fire, assassins and police officers. It wasn't long before he disappeared into the night, leaving her standing over the sprawled body of the boy she had hoped would bring her happiness and status. She could now see that for the foolish wishful thinking that it had been. Carl Timbrook wasn't what she wanted. Truthfully, he never was. The man that she wanted wore armor like most people wore cotton, had burning eyes that matched the fire he could summon to his hands and was graced with a smile that could charm even her beloved grandmother. The man that she wanted was as dangerous as he was chivalrous and he had just dashed out of her life forever.

That man was a mutant. A mutant who called himself Gambit.

_fini_


End file.
